The Song Game
by Lacey G. Bliss
Summary: Nothing, at the moment, to do with River Song. Just a game for making drabbles. Enjoy!


Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, or any of its characters.

_Hello Fanfiction Community! I'm writing these as little one-shot inspirations to myself, and will probably expand on quite a few of them later. I'm thinking of doing one with Harry Potter, in a different area. Also, I found this through AzureFalls, fantastic writer. So, enjoy, and maybe enjoy more when I hopefully expand upon these. __**~Lacey**_

**The Song Game**

Rules  
1. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.  
2. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!  
3. Write ten of these, then post them. _(I'll probably do more than ten)_

_

* * *

_

_Song One: Sakura's Theme by Toshiro Matsuda_

Donna had never seen such a beautiful sight—the waterfalls were misting in a pink spray, and the silhouette of the TARDIS could be seen against the purple sky.

She and the Doctor stared at the beautiful area, content in the resolution to their adventure.

She had never been more glad to have come along.

* * *

_Song Two: Zetsubou Billy by Maximum the Hormone_

Exhilaration.

Rose and the Doctor dodged shrapnel, dashing from safe alley to safe alley. She was terrified, but grinning up a storm. He was thinking and running, running and thinking, regretting coming to this time, and _also_ grinning up a storm.

Once they had the TARDIS within sight, he pushed Rose onward, but stopped his mad rush, turning to face the oncoming wave of shooter bots. Trust them to trip a security system.

Everything turned to slow motion, at least to him. He pointed his sonic at the railings above and…

* * *

_Song Three: Above and Below by The Bravery_

Martha stared straight ahead. She regretted leaving the Doctor, every day. She was stranded, all she had was home, and work.

It made her feel ordinary.

The Doctor always had a remedy for that. They'd land somewhere and save the day, it made her feel less… meaningless.

She wanted to leave, as much as she loved her family, it wasn't enough. She needed the adrenaline.

* * *

_Song Four: Private Life by Oingo Boingo_

The Doctor liked being a Time Lord, but he hated the Academy. Everything was so structured. Boring. _Clean_, for goodness sake.

He observed his dorm, pictures, a replica of the Seal of Rassilon, his bed. It was… not what he wanted.

He'd stare at the sky, at night, thinking of someday being free of the Time Lords' laws and restrictions, free to explore and find out why things were the way they were.

Then and there, he decided to leave.

* * *

_Song Five: Nervous by Toshiro Matsuda_

Rory froze. He had never been good under pressure.

That was more of Amy's thing.

The controls flashed again, reminding him of the urgency that he was _sure not to forget_. How was he supposed to do this? All of those people counting on _him_?

* * *

_Song Six: Hit The Floor by Linkin Park_

Rose was gone.

That was all he could really think of. It had all happened so quickly, the situation with Donna, that he hadn't had the time to really, really let it sink in.

Rose was gone.

He had been so _happy_ with her. Why did everyone leave, eventually? She had promised forever, even intended to keep it. Turns out it was a lie.

It was all a very big, bad lie.

* * *

_Song Seven: Number One (Vocal Version) by Hazel Fernandes_

Amy was happy. Not a reasonable contentment, but scream at the top of your lungs sort of happy. She felt like she was on the top of the world. Why?

She had found the Doctor. It took a dozen years, but she got her adventure. Heck, she even got the guy, in the end.

Not that she hadn't already had the guy…

Even after the Doctor had left (a point she was more than slightly displeased over), she and Rory had been the talk of the town for days.

She wasn't the crazy, delusional, Scottish, ginger orphan anymore. She'd proved her fantasies real, everyone had seen, and she was on top of the world.

Amy hoped with all her heart that it would last. And that the Doctor would come back.

She owed him a slap for runnin' off like that.

* * *

_Song Eight: The (After) Life of the Party by Fall Out Boy_

Mickey was still shocked at the changes Rose underwent when she was with the Doctor.

She had just put him, his love, on hold, and expected him to understand. Then she had turned into another person.

They were at the Torchwood Staff Gala, "as friends" as she said, and she was working the room. Socializing, she called it.

She never would have had the confidence to even talk to some of these beings before her time with the Doctor.

Mickey supposed that was a good thing, but... he missed _his_ Rose.

* * *

_Song Nine: Inner City Pressure by Flight of the Conchords_

Everything felt wrong here, like a bad sketch of her dreams once.

She had her mother _and_ her father, but they had been overbearing, so she moved to downtown London. She had worked for Torchwood for a while, but that just reminded her of the Doctor, so now she was a shop girl again, struggling to pay her rent.

She'd taken up the flute, but that failed after she couldn't pay for rent. For a bit, she'd considered being a prostitute, rather than asking her parents for money; that idea had been discarded almost immediately, but still…

Was this the _fantastic life_ he'd wanted for her? It definitely wasn't the one Rose had wanted for herself.

* * *

_Song Ten: Condemned by Dead by Sunrise_

Sometimes he thought he'd been cursed, as a child. Then he thought better and realized that he sort of brought it on himself. After all, he was the one that got the thing put in his head.

That's right, Adam was suffering the consequences of his implant of choice.

Torchwood One had picked him up, and he was in the "lots of painful experiments" phase of his stay.

_They're so hospitable_, he thought (sarcastically) to himself.

* * *

_Haha, might have cheated a little bit on them, you know, actually *finishing* my sentences at the end, but other than that those are the fruit of my timed writing exercises. I've come to the conclusions that I am a slow typist, music does very little to inspire me, and I need to update my song library. What do you guys think? _**~Lacey**


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